Blood Match

Chapter 49: The Circle of Destiny

Malachi rose from where he had been sitting and crossed to Leo. Placing a hand on his shoulder, he said gently,

“We have awaited your coming for a very long time. You will close the circle. I am the beginning… you are the ending.”

At that moment, a voice rang out, carried on the air.

“I choose you. I will always choose you. Even if the whole world stood against us, I would cheerfully burn it to the ground for you. You are my Heart, my Soul, my Home—and nothing and no one will ever take you from me.”

Leo felt it in his very bones. A love that surged through him, fierce and overwhelming, filling every broken place inside him.

Then the voice returned, laced with unmistakable sass:

“So hear my words, Leonidas De La Cruz: come back to me, because we’ve got some serious ass to kick!”

Leo laughed, the sound joyous and alive. Gods, that was his Liam—bold, defiant, unshaken. Teeth bared and heart on fire.

Malachi and Beatriz smiled. Malachi spoke first:

“Remember, I am always with you, as are all the Sanguinis Divina who have come after me. We live in here,” he said, touching Leo’s chest. “Remember—blood is the river of memory. It always flows from the source.”

Leo nodded, his eyes shining with unshed tears.

Then Beatriz stepped forward, her hand brushing his cheek with tenderness.

“Go now, with our blessing and our love. You have found the Crown of Fire… and you are worthy of him.”

The words struck Leo like lightning. His breath caught.

The Crown of Fire wasn’t a what—it was a who.

“Liam.”

As he spoke Liam’s name, all went black and he felt as if he were falling from a great height.

He opened his eyes. Suddenly, he felt it—his body. He was back. He looked up, and there was Liam, looking down at him, concern written on his face.

“Liam,” Leo said, reaching up to touch his cheek.

Liam kissed Leo’s palm, his eyes wet with tears of joy.

“I was beginning to worry.”

Leo sat up, taking a moment to scan their surroundings.

“It was Marlowe, Gideon, and Harrison. This is all them. Tristan and the others are searching for us. Can you stand?”

Leo nodded, allowing Liam to help him to his feet.

“So what’s the plan?” Liam asked quietly.

Outside, Harrison was still trying to force his way through the vines that covered the door, raving as he worked to tear them away.

Leo listened for a moment, and then he heard it—the howls of wolves coming closer. Then all went silent. Leo smiled to himself.

“We wait. More help is coming.”

The ballroom had grown quiet, and the guests had already begun to flow into separate groups. The South American and African covens stood together, suspicion on their faces as they glared at the representatives of Spain’s Vampire/Human Authority.

Logan stood beside Joseph and Kara, his hand resting on Joseph’s shoulder, exerting a calming influence. If Leo was Joseph’s father figure, then Logan was his beloved uncle.

The Elders stood alone, watching everyone with an intensity that imposed silence and calm.

Sofia watched Don Antonio from across the ballroom as Diego and Anna spoke with Kwame and Adana. Diego had taken a liking to the Africans. It surprised her—in a good way—to find vampires from another part of the world who shared the same sense of honor and justice she held dear.

She was beginning to understand—Leo’s influence reached farther than she had ever imagined.

There was a time she resented him for stepping away from power, leaving the VHA to fill the vacuum. She had never quite forgiven him for that. But as she grew into her own strength, she realized something sobering: even in absence, Leo still cast a very long shadow.

Don Antonio watched as Don Bernardo drained his fifth glass of red wine. He grimaced in disgust at the weakness displayed by his mortal companion.

“Don Bernardo, I think you’ve had enough.”

Don Antonio’s voice cracked like a whip, making Bernardo flinch.

Elenora watched them both, her face a mask of confidence and calm—neither of which she felt.

“Antonio, calm yourself. Regardless of what’s happened, it can’t touch us—we were here the entire evening,” Elenora whispered at his side.

“You forget, child, that Harrison came with us as part of our entourage. His actions will shackle us together in silver chains! We can only hope Leo and Liam are unharmed—and that whoever did this meets a swift end!”

“Don Antonio, what do you mean?” Bernardo asked, dropping his glass onto the tray as a passing waiter caught it mid-fall.

A bead of sweat trailed down his temple, his eyes wide with sudden fear.

“What I mean,” Antonio growled, “is that we are caught in a vice—between three powerful vampire elders and whoever had the fucking nerve to try and assassinate the Divina in his own territory. And let’s not forget,” he added bitterly, “that Maria Santa Muerte is here—the very embodiment of death itself.”

Tristan, his father, Alexi, and the elite Coronados moved swiftly toward the ancient palace ruins that lay on the far edge of the estate. Tristan and Edward rode in a black jeep that handled the rugged terrain with practiced ease, its engine humming low beneath the weight of urgency.

Through the trees, the Coronados and Alexi moved like shadows—silent, swift, and deadly. Their speed and agility spoke of age-old power, honed over centuries, now unleashed with singular purpose.

Suddenly, a new sensation bloomed in Tristan’s consciousness. His breath hitched as he felt it.

Tristan cried out, “Papa, I can feel him! Leo is alive!” He closed his eyes, steadying himself, and after a beat, he lifted his right hand and pointed. “They’re that way.”

Edward didn’t hesitate. He turned the jeep sharply to the right, out of the woods and into a clearing. Silhouetted against the night sky stood several old buildings, their crumbling shapes stark in the dark.

Then Tristan heard it—the howl of a large number of wolves. The sound rose in the night air, triumphant and wild, marked by yips and barks punctuated by long, echoing cries. It should have been frightening, but instead, it filled Tristan with hope.

Then he saw them—emerging from the woods, at least twenty-five wolves, all jet black, sleek and muscular. Their golden eyes glowed in the dark as they hurtled toward the ruins with terrifying purpose.

“Follow the wolves!” Tristan shouted over the roar of the jeep’s engine.

Tristan didn’t understand it, but he could feel joy radiating from the wolves as they ran. It was more than instinct—it was as if they had been waiting for this moment for a very long time.

He knew the estate supported wildlife, but he’d never heard the groundskeepers mention a pack this large. Twenty-five wolves, moving as one. Where had they come from?

Harrison continued to rip at the vines that obscured the door, his frustration mounting. Nothing was going to stop him. Liam would face his wrath—and maybe, just maybe, he would kill Leo too.

To hell with restraint.

The Order could use a little war. It would be the perfect excuse to plunge the world into the bloodbath it needed, to return vampires to their rightful place at the top of the food chain.

Harrison had just finished that thought when he heard it—the howls of wolves, wild and rising, echoing through the night. They were coming closer.

He froze for a moment, listening. Were Marlowe and Gideon hearing this too from the tunnel’s mouth?

A flicker of doubt crept in, uninvited.

As the jeep sped across the estate’s far edge, Tristan kept his eyes on the wolves. The pack moved with startling precision, their formation tight and deliberate. It wasn’t just instinct—it was something more, something preternatural.

A low series of barks rang out from the lead wolf, sharp and commanding. Instantly, the pack split in perfect unison—half veering left, the other right—fanning out like black shadows toward the ruins.

Suddenly, they were gone—vanished like smoke on the wind. Only the Alpha remained, racing toward the ruins with unwavering purpose.

In the back of his mind, Tristan felt Leo—an ember of presence, quiet and steady. Expectation. Calm. Whatever was coming, Leo was ready for it.

Tristan turned to his father. “Leo is alright—I can feel him. There’s a calmness… but also power. I’ve never felt anything like this before.”

Edward smiled as he steered the jeep forward. “You wouldn’t have. Very few have ever witnessed a Divina come into his power.”

The door swung open with a groan. Harrison’s hands were caked in dirt and blood from tearing through the vines. The cursed scent of campion clung to him, sweet and cloying, igniting his fury.

Liam would pay. Leo would pay. And the world would bleed for its ignorance.

Vampires would rise again to rule the night. The fragile illusion of coexistence would shatter, torn away to reveal the gaping, blood-red wound beneath—raw, ravenous, and eternal.

As he stepped forward to claim his victory, something brushed past his leg in the darkness. Even with his preternatural senses, all he could make out was a shadow—darker than the gloom that surrounded him.

Stepping deeper into the narrow tunnel, Harrison moved toward the larger enclosure where he expected to find Leo incapacitated, with a frantic Liam cowering in fear. But something was wrong.

He smelled the campion before he saw it.

The scent was heavy in the air, sharp and wild. Then the vines came into view—twisting across the stone walls, each bloom glowing with a soft, ghostly luminescence. Thousands of white flowers lit the chamber with an eerie light.

As he turned the final corner into the heart of the cell, he froze.

Liam stood tall, proud, his presence defiant. Leo was at his side—steady, awake, aglow in the soft bloom of the campion. And before them, poised and silent, stood the largest black wolf Harrison had ever seen. Its golden eyes gleamed, fixed on him with keen intelligence.

Harrison stumbled back, fear rolling off him in waves. The look of triumph he had worn just seconds ago vanished, replaced by panic, disbelief.

A voice rose from the stillness. Calm. Steady. Unrelenting.

“Harrison, I warned you—death is all you would find here. Does your life mean so little that you’d throw it away at the behest of your masters?”

Harrison struggled to speak. Why was it all falling apart now?

He was so close.

The Order of the Unseen had placed its resources at his disposal. Twenty vampires surrounded the ruins. Marlowe’s poison should have kept Leo incapacitated for at least another hour.

And yet—

It was all crumbling before his eyes.

Liam spoke again, his voice sharp and incisive, cutting the air like a blade.

“You thought it would be easy. Poison Leo. Kill me. Drive him into despair. Poor Harrison—your arrogance was your undoing. A Goddess visited this very night, and still you believed you had the power to strike at the Divina?”

Harrison spat, eyes wild.

“Yes, I want to destroy you both. For too long we have humbled ourselves in the name of cooperation—with our food. Humans are cattle. Food animals. And it’s time they returned to their rightful place. Without the Sanguinis Divina, we can be ascendant again.

You may kill me, but you won’t make it out alive. Twenty elder vampires surround these ruins. Marlowe still holds the poison that brought Leo to his knees. And Gideon—Gideon will break you like a discarded toy. So even in death, they will sing my name as the one who brought down the Sanguinis Divina.”

Liam simply smiled at Leo, then turned back to Harrison.

He stepped forward and placed a hand on the wolf’s head. The creature looked up at him and licked his palm, then lifted its snout and let out a howl that reverberated through the cell and into the woods beyond. Moments later, a chorus of answering howls rose in reply.

“No one will remember your name.”

As he spoke, his form began to glow—limned in golden light, radiant like the sun.

As Leo watched, the words Beatriz spoke came back to him:

You have found the Crown of Fire… and you are worthy of him.

Liam continued,

“No songs will be sung. No plaques will be laid.
Your name will scatter like dust on the wind.
You will be forgotten. No one will mourn for you.”

The light grew so bright that Harrison had to throw an arm over his eyes. Then he felt it—searing pain, as if he stood beneath the full glare of the sun.

Is this how it ends?

That was the last thought to flicker through his mind before he was reduced to ash.

✨ Author’s Closing Note ✨
Thank you for joining me for this two-chapter binge. Tonight we witnessed a turning point—but the story is far from finished. The next drop arrives Monday, so be ready to step back into the shadows with me.

Until then, protect the flame.